On A Hot Summer Night
by IDontKnowYourSignal
Summary: It was hot. Stifling hot. It had been all day. That kind of oppressive, humid heat where the air is heavy and thick, where you pray for the evening's cool air to arrive early, or a thunderstorm to roll down from the Alps. But some nights, it's just impossible to cool down…


_On a hot summer night..._

It was hot. Stifling hot. It had been all day. That kind of oppressive, humid heat where the air is heavy and thick. That kind of day where you pray for the evening's cool air to arrive early, or a thunderstorm to roll down from the Alps. But, even with the shadows lengthening, the evening had brought little in the way of relief.

In fact, as he slammed the door behind him, the evening had only become more suffocating. The day's heavy, humid air had only grown more stifling and sultry the longer the evening wore on. And tonight, it had seemed to drag on for an eternity. Pressing back against the door, he rested the back of his head on the hard timber, trying to fill his lungs. God knows why he was so short of breath.

Releasing each deep breath slowly, deliberately, he could feel the beads of perspiration on his forehead. A few minutes. That's all he needed. Just a few minutes. Closing his eyes, he tried to settle his racing heart, tried to control his breathing. But within moments, his mind was being invaded by wide blue eyes and soft, plump lips. Images that flooded the black void, surging to the front of his mind from the darkest corners, where he'd been struggling manfully to keep them.

Cursing, his eyes shot open. He tugged impatiently at the knot in his tie, trying to loosen the damn thing. He needed air, needed to get some oxygen to his brain. But in this stifling heat, haunted by her, it was impossible.

He pushed himself off the door and took a few steps, frustrated fingers undoing the buttons of his jacket. Shrugging it off, he threw it roughly over the seat beside him. He stopped and looped his tie over his head, dropping it on top of the jacket. His finger and thumb fumbled as he struggled to undo the top button of his white shirt. Threading off his cuff links in the semi-dark, he was grateful for the evening's lingering sun, its final warm, golden glow before it fell below the horizon. But it probably meant there'd be no storm rolling in. Not tonight. No relief from this oppressive humidity.

Sighing, he paused, juggling the cuff links in his hand. At the time, who could have imagined they'd be the last gift from his beautiful wife? Alone in the dim light, fond memories of Agathe escaped, forcing their way to the surface for the briefest of moments. Thankfully, the sound of the cuff links clinking against one another chased them away. Bending down, he carefully placed the cuff links in the inside pocket of his jacket. He ran his fingers lovingly over the pocket, treasured gift and memories both safely secured.

He stared out towards the lake. The evening's lengthening golden light now a brilliant orange, shimmering across the surface of the water. It always did look stunning at this hour, as the summer's sun hesitated on the horizon, clinging onto the day for as long as it could. He reached up with an unsteady hand, running it through his wild hair, damp from perspiration. At least his breathing had started to steady. It was ridiculous. A man of his age. He'd felt like this before, but these days, that seemed a lifetime ago. It was over his beautiful wife. God knows, he'd never felt anything close to this with Elsa. A pang of guilt accompanied the thought.

Agitated, he walked towards the view across the lake. Cursing, he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Why in God's name did they make them so small? How was a man supposed to undo the damn things? For a wild moment, he imagined nimble fingers swiftly releasing the buttons from their holes. He shook his head, shaking off the unruly image. Stopping, he had the second button undone, but the third came off in his fingers. He heard it bouncing away from him on the timber floor, disappearing somewhere into the distance. Cursing again, he decided it could stay there. He'd never find it in this light.

His feet started moving again, the footsteps from his boots echoing around him. Still staring out at the lake, he rolled up his shirt sleeves so they hung just below his elbows. Like his hair, his shirt was damp from perspiration. Just moving in this sticky, humid air was enough to make a man break out into a sweat. Tripping, he looked down at his feet, cursing at an uneven plank of wood. Taking more care, he started moving again, this time taking note of where he was stepping.

Reaching the end of the boat house, he stood on the edge of the deck, looking out over the lake. With a gentle breeze moving across the water towards him, it was a little cooler, but not much. His eyes moved from a pair of swans in the distance, instead drawn to the dragonflies. For a moment, he watched them dip down to skim across the flat surface of the water only a few feet in front of him, then dart away, disappearing for a moment, only to return. He tugged impatiently at his shirt tails, releasing them from his trousers. Holding out his arms, he let what cool air there was, move around him. It brought some relief from the heat, but he could still feel the beads of perspiration on his brow, and trailing uncomfortably down his back.

With cicadas singing noisily from the nearby oaks and willows, he looked out over the lake. A much tamer piece of water, it would never come close to replacing his beloved sea. He often wished he was looking out at rolling waves instead of the sedate pool of water that lapped gently underneath the deck of the boat house. Even in the heat of battle, whenever they'd dared to surface or were lucky enough to take sanctuary in port, the ebb and flow of the sea always had a strange, calming effect. He sighed. He guessed that was price of losing. The price of having others redraw the footprint of your country when they had no heart in the matter. Chasing away the melancholy thoughts, he told himself the evening was too beautiful to waste dwelling on things he'd given up trying to change.

He closed his eyes, but quickly opened them again. _God, she was still there._ Why had she looked at him with those eyes? And here he'd been telling himself, like some deluded fool, this thing was under control. Well, it wasn't. He thought it had been, until she'd looked at him. Until he'd turned to find her looking at him with those eyes, with that look. _With that longing._ He hadn't been able to turn away, not once he'd found her blue eyes, heavy with desire, begging him to take her in his arms, daring him to kiss those plump lips, delightfully parted as her breathing came harder, faster. God knows he would have if they'd been alone. However, in the drawing room, they'd been anything but alone.

And what made it all the worse, he'd been caught.

He ran an unsteady hand through his hair as he tried to shake off that look of disapproval. When he'd finally been able to tear his eyes away from hers, he'd found Max glaring at him. His friend knew exactly what he'd been thinking, exactly what he wanted. _He'd wanted her. _Even in all the excitement, as she'd gathered up the children and ushered them off to bed, he couldn't stop his eyes following her. The outline of her legs, the silk of her blue dress clinging, swaying against them, his last image of her. Tonight, it would be a lasting one. He hoped Max had been the only one who'd caught him. There was that stab of guilt again.

Instinctively, his fingers started moving. He still didn't understand. It was a mystery how this woman had found her way under his skin. Something had stirred, even in those first moments they'd met. She'd provoked him, challenged him, teased him. And that had taken her all of fifteen minutes. Agitation had quickly turned to curiosity, which in turn had grown into a deep-seated fascination. Now, it was a raging desire, impossible to control. Weeks of disturbed sleep and delightful dreams told him what he already knew. Whatever he tried tonight, it would probably be useless. He wouldn't be able to let go of that look. Not tonight.

He wiped the perspiration off his brow with his forearm. He was a coward. Right now, he should be sitting behind his desk waiting for her. How many nights had he found a reason to excuse himself after she'd taken the children upstairs? How many hours had he sat behind his desk hoping she'd find her way down there after settling the children? He'd lost count weeks ago. But he couldn't. Not tonight. He wasn't that brave. He just couldn't trust himself to be alone with her. Not after seeing her cheeks flushed with desire, the burning in her eyes. Burning for him. Instead, he was hiding out here in the boat house. Fearful of his own feelings and what he might do, he was only certain of one thing. He couldn't be trusted alone with her. And Max knew it.

Staring out at the surface of the lake changing from a shade of gold to burnt orange, he sighed. He couldn't possibly keep their meeting, not after Max caught him. He knew his friend far too well. He'd make a point of interrupting them. With that silly, smug look, Max would take great delight seeing him fidget uncomfortably in his chair behind his desk. And that's if he managed to stay behind his desk. He doubted whether he could. Watching the dragonflies swooping over the surface of the lake, it was difficult to know what was affecting his brain more. This oppressive heat, or her. His fingers stopped moving. It was obvious. _Her._

Before he could stop to think, he angrily heeled off his boots, kicking them out of the way. There was only one way he was going to cool down tonight. Frustrated, he reached down and pulled at his woollen socks, throwing them in the direction of his boots. Curling his toes over the edge of the timber deck, he filled his lungs and pushed off, arms extended as he dived into the expanse. His fingers broke through the surface of the water first, his outstretched arms and body quickly following.

An escape. Finally. Relief, as he lost himself to the depths of the cool, dark lake...

_Sleight of hand  
Jump off the end  
Into a clear lake  
No one around_

Holding his breath, he pulled through the water, the powerful strokes from his arms and the strong kick of his legs, propelling him further away from the deck of the boat house, towards the middle of the lake.

The water was deep in this part, which had made it the obvious place to build the boat house. And, as he'd discovered years ago, the perfect place to swim. Bubbles floated upwards, bursting somewhere in the dark water before reaching the surface. His body cut through the darkness, continuing to rise gradually as the air left his lungs, taking him from the colder depths to the warmer layers of water near the surface.

Breaking through the top of the lake, water streamed down his face, neck and shoulders, joining the rest of the dark water lapping around his chest. Shaking his head, excess drops landed in a circle around him. He gulped in a mouthful of air, his muscles tightening against his white shirt as he filled his lungs. Treading water, he turned back to the shadowy hulk of the boat house, already some distance away. He was a strong swimmer. Always had been. A childhood of long hot summers by the beach had seen to that.

The setting sun had all but dipped below the horizon, its orange glow now being replaced by the early evening's dusky purple light. Soon, even that would disappear, and the moonlight would turn everything silver. Singing from the trees along the distant shore, the cicadas were still calling out and answering each other. Before long, darkness would eventually extinguish their song.

His gaze followed along the bank of the lake towards the villa in the distance. He narrowed his eyes, trying to find the children's rooms. But, from this far away, it was impossible to tell if their lights were still burning. No doubt they were. After the heat of the day and the night's excitement, it would probably take longer than usual to get them to settle for the night.

He sighed, wishing he wasn't such a coward, wishing he'd been brave enough to wait for her in his study. He lifted a wet hand from underneath the surface, pushing his dripping fringe back from his forehead. Now, he'd spend a restless night wishing he'd had just a few precious minutes alone with her. He cursed his own stupidity. Breakfast seemed so far away. At this time of night, these past weeks, it always did. And, when it finally came, seated at the opposite end of the table, she might as well be miles away.

Stolen looks down the length of the table would be all he could hope for. Frustrated, he wanted more. Needed more. Turning away from the villa, he started swimming. He moved his arms, slowly at first, just a leisurely crawl across the surface. At least out here in the middle of the lake, it was cooler. Keeping his head above the water, between his slow, steady strokes, he glanced up at the sky. The full moon was already shining brightly, but it would still be some time before the dusk disappeared completely, letting it take over the night. The breeze blowing across the water was only a gentle one, not even enough to ruffle his wet hair.

For a mad moment he wondered how she'd be cooling down once the children were settled.

After easing herself out of her blue dress, would she run herself a cool bath? Closing his eyes, the rhythmic breaking of water in time to his strokes drifted into the sound of a bath being filled. Moving slowly towards the middle of the lake, the cicada's song blurred into the distance, as he pictured her humming softly to herself while she sat on the edge of her bed, slowly lifting the skirt of her chemise to reveal her simple, sensible suspenders. Releasing the first of her stockings from its clips, she would carefully roll it down her thigh, slowing as she eased the silk over her knee, before rolling it down the length of her calf and then slowing again to gently release her foot. With one leg free, she would move her attention to the other one. Removing it with as much care, just as captivating as the first. Of course, like everything she did, she would be adorably unaware just how seductive her movements were. She always was.

He tightened his eyes as he pictured her bare feet padding across from the bed to the bathroom, towards the running water. Bending down, she'd skate her fingers across the top of the water, testing the temperature. Satisfied, she'd stand up, slipping the straps of her cotton chemise off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, pooling around her feet. Biting his lower lip, he could still hear her humming, as she reached across the bath, the muscles tightening across her back, she'd turn off the taps. Easing out of her undergarments, they'd find their way to the floor with her chemise.

_Oh, dear Lord..._

His eyes moved lower. Down to her waist, over her hips and along those legs that had teased him earlier underneath layers of blue silk. She was perfect. Biting his lower lip harder, he pictured her stepping over the bath's edge, sighing with relief as she slowly lowered herself into the cool water. Her hot, sticky skin quickly overcoming the initial shock of the cool water, she'd gradually lean back, stretching her long legs out in front of her. With a rolled towel under her head, she'd ease back, closing her eyes. He wondered what she'd be dreaming about. Would she think of him? Would she think back to that look they'd shared earlier? He hoped so. _Did she know just how much he wanted her?_

He wanted to touch her. Wanted to reach out and cup her perfect breasts, to watch her nipples harden as the cool water lapped at them. He had to feel them, wanted to trace them with his fingers, run his thumb across them. _Teasing, tormenting, driving her mad._ He just wanted her…

_Just dragonflies  
Fantasise_

Coughing and spluttering, his eyes shot open. _What in the Hell?_ Looking around him, gasping for breath, he spat out what felt like a lung full of lake water. _Heaven help him._ Instead of looking like the accomplished swimmer he was supposed to be, he was thrashing about like some madman.

_For God's sake man, pull yourself together_, he growled under his breath.

His heart pounding, his mind racing, he turned away from the villa and started rolling his left arm over, then his right, and his left again. He had to get a grip on this thing, had to get this out of his system before he did something stupid. Picking up the rhythm of the stroke, his arms started moving harder and faster through the water, his legs were now kicking powerfully, working up to twice the speed of his arms, propelling him along.

In his mind, he started counting each stroke. He _one_ must _two_ purge _three_ these _four_ thoughts _five_ from _six_ his _seven_ head _eight_…

_No one gets hurt  
You've done nothing wrong_

Slowly rolling his arms over, his chest feeling like it was going to burst, he eased his strokes and glided towards the boat house. He reached out and grabbed hold of the deck, clinging to it with both hands, his head hanging low, as he gasped for air. Resting his forehead against the timber, he tried to fill his lungs, ignoring the streams of water running down his face. If that didn't clear his head, he thought ruefully, nothing would.

As breathing came easier, less laboured, he turned his body in the water and looked out across the lake. While he'd been setting a punishing pace trying to forget those delightful images from the governess' bathroom, the evening's dusk had given way to the night. Apart from the call of a lonely cicada, right at this very moment, he could have been all alone in the world. Still holding onto the deck with one hand, he skimmed the top of the water with his fingers, watching the ripples spread out around him, breaking the flat, shimmering surface of the lake and catching the moonlight.

Sighing to himself, he turned to face the deck again. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he plunged beneath the water, savouring the cool water for one final time tonight. Rising out of the lake, he shook his head from side to side, droplets of water flying off into the night around him. He placed both palms on the edge of the deck, and in one swift motion pulled himself up out of the water. His wet shirt pulled tight against the muscles bulging in his arms and across his chest, as the water poured off him. Turning his body, he sat on the edge of the deck, his feet and the hems of his trousers dangling over the edge into the water below.

Dripping wet, it was impossible to tell if the evening had cooled at all, but he shivered as the tiniest hint of a breeze blew off the lake against his wet body. He reached up and squeezed his hair, sending trails of water down his neck and back as he kept trying to fill his lungs with air. Laying back on the hard, wooden deck, his chest rose and fell in time to his breathing, still heavy from all the exertion. He smiled up at the black sky littered with stars. Surely, after that, he'd be sleeping well tonight. Water was still streaming off his body and clothes, pooling on the deck around him, before escaping through the cracks between the timber planks.

Sitting up, he lifted his legs and shimmied across the deck, out of the wet puddle. To anyone else, it may have seemed like sheer madness diving into the lake fully clothed, but not to him. Not after all those years in the navy. Lying back on the deck, he'd wait a while longer, dry off a little more.

Closing his eyes, his breathing had almost returned to normal. Still, every time his lungs filled, his wet shirt pulled taut across his chest. He smiled. The night had fallen silent, with the evening's last cicada having finally found his mate, or given up the search until tomorrow's dusk.

Now, it really did feel like he was all alone in the world...

_Slide your hand_  
_Jump off the end_

Humming away to herself, Maria reached down and ran her fingers across the top of the water, watching the little ripples spread out away from her. Each of these past days had seemed hotter than the one before, with today being almost unbearable. It had taken some time, but she'd finally settled the children for the night. For the younger girls, it had only taken a few pages from the storybook they'd been reading this past week before sleep found them. She smiled. The poor things had been worn out from the endless days of summer heat. With their rooms so stuffy after all these hot days and nights, it hadn't been quite so easy with the older children. She would have to check on Brigitta and Liesl later, having left them both flopped on their beds reading when she'd finally whispered good night and closed their doors behind her.

With the children finally settled, she'd hurried back downstairs to the study. She'd been surprised to find the entire lower floor strangely silent. But she'd been especially disappointed when she'd opened the study door and found the room empty. She sighed. It hadn't taken long, perhaps only days, before their time alone each evening had become her favourite part of the day.

She flexed the arches of her feet, lifting her toes out of the water. Freeing them from their stockings and shoes had been as much a relief as finally immersing them in the cool water. Flicking her toes, she watched the drops of water creating little patterns around her.

Leaning back, she closed her eyes and took in a few slow, deep breaths. But it wasn't long before dark eyes and a warm baritone found her. She smiled, recalling the moment their eyes had met, as he'd sung Edelweiss. She was sure one day she was going to burst into flames from one of his looks. Tonight, she thought it was going to finally happen. It was always the same. Once those dark, heavy eyes found hers, she couldn't think, could barely breathe.

She leaned back further, still disappointed, still wishing he'd been waiting for her in the study. But, even if she _had_ found him sitting behind his desk, it wouldn't have made any real difference. As had become her habit these past weeks, once she was alone at night, she was wishing the morning would hurry up and arrive...

_The water's clear and innocent_  
_The water's clear and innocent_

The air still felt heavy, but a hint of breeze against damp clothes was enough to keep him cool as he made his way along the path. With his jacket and tie slung over one arm, he strode confidently toward the villa, which loomed up large ahead. Proudly pushing his shoulders back, not only had he found some relief from the heat, he'd also found some respite from her. He may actually be able to get some rest tonight, rather than struggle through another night of sleep haunted by visions of her in swathes of blue silk.

But some time ago, without even realising, somewhere back along the path, he'd started whistling. Coming to the final verse, it finally dawned on him. He stopped walking. Stopped whistling. He cursed under his breath...

_Edelweiss._

Of course. That's what he'd been singing as he'd strummed her guitar, as he'd looked up. When his eyes had found hers. His jaw tightened.

He started walking, faster this time, determined not to let his thoughts get away from him again. Surely, he was too tired to get distracted with wide blue eyes, filled with longing and desire. He refused to let dwell on those soft, full lips so delightfully parted as she tried to breathe through her thoughts. But it was difficult, almost impossible. He knew what she'd been thinking. _He'd been thinking the same thing._ He shook his head, trying to shake away the images. God knows how, but somehow he'd continued singing, had managed to finish the song, despite getting lost in that look. A look that told him her head had been filled with delightfully naughty thoughts. He stopped again, wondering what she might be thinking now...

Cursing, he'd promised himself he wouldn't let her invade his thoughts again. Especially after all the effort and exertion it had taken to push her to the back of his mind. But that was just it, he smiled wryly to himself. He hadn't really stopped thinking about her, had he? _God, who was he fooling?_

Sighing, he started walking again, tugging impatiently at his damp shirt. In this humidity, it had barely dried off and was still clinging to his body. But out here at this late hour, alone in the night, he didn't care too much how he looked. Not that he had any real idea what the time was. Searching skywards, judging by the black sky, now littered with stars, it was late.

As he drew closer to the villa, his eyes had already moved instinctively to the second level. He scanned along the side, searching for a light in the governess' bedroom. It was in darkness, like the rest of the wing. As desperate as he was to see her, it was probably best she'd retired for the evening. Stepping onto the paving stones that ran from the landing to the terrace steps, he reached up to push his damp hair back off his eyes. Sighing, he knew it would be drying in a mass of unruly curls, a far cry from the usual smoothed back look that took far too much of his time and patience each morning.

Turning up towards the steps, he took a few paces, but stopped. Certain he'd heard something, he froze, straining his ears. Surely, his mind was playing tricks. He held his breath, trying to hear over the blood pounding in his head. He heard it again. Turning around towards the lake, there was no mistake this time. He took a soft, silent step. Then another. Smiling, he quietly made his way to the gates at the landing.

Draping his jacket and tie over one of the gates, his hands held onto the iron of the other gate. He leaned over, his head turning in the direction of the delightful humming. His smile widened. There she was. At the base of one of the Pegasus statues. What on Earth was she doing here? But he didn't really care, he held his breath, just happy to watch her for a few moments. Her eyes were closed as she leaned back, her arms stretched out behind her as she rested on the palms of her hands. Her head was on the side, accentuating the curve of her neck. He followed it down to her shoulder, the moonlight glistening off her porcelain skin. His eyes followed the wide neck of her blue dress. Just a hint of collarbone peaked out from the neckline. His fingers started moving against the gate, burning at the thought of tracing a fingertip along that bone, following it, discovering what lay underneath the layers of blue silk.

Swallowing hard, dragging his eyes away from her skin, he followed the neckline of her dress, down to the bodice. As she leaned back, her breasts were outlined by the moonlight. They were rising and falling with each breath. His hands wrapped tighter around the iron gate. His mouth was growing dry as his head began to fill with all manner of possibilities.

Moving his eyes down further, over her flat stomach, along her thighs, he realised her skirts were hiked up just above her knees. Biting his lower lip, his mind started spinning. All his senses were heightened, now on full alert. But then, they always were when she was nearby. It had been that way since the beginning, even during their first moments together. A splash brought his mind back to her, and he realised her feet must be in the water. His eyes shot back down to the darkness beyond the edge of the landing. _Oh, God, that could only mean one thing._ He swallowed. Hard.

_J__u__st stay on this side of the gate..._

But surely, this must be some trick, he thought, his head spinning around to the villa. He narrowed his eyes, searching for someone, something, but praying he wouldn't find anyone or anything. He waited. Watching. _Nothing._ Except the sound of her sweet voice humming one of the children's songs. Slowly, ever so slowly, he turned back to her. They were alone. All alone. Just him and her...

"What are you doing there?" the words spilled out before he could stop them. He cringed. He hadn't meant for them to sound so blunt, almost an accusation.

"Oh!" Maria gasped, her eyes flying open. Sitting up straight, her head spun around to find a dark figure in the shadows at the gate. "I was just... well, I..." she lifted her legs out of the water, "well, it was just so hot..." her words drifted off as she brought her hands to the edge of the landing, and went to stand.

"No, no, stay there," Georg's eyes moved from her wide eyes as they caught the moonlight to her legs, certain he could see beads of water dripping from them as her heels found a resting place on the edge of the landing. _Just stay this side of the gate._ "It's been hot," he kicked himself for his lame words, for stating the obvious. _Of course, it had been hot._

"Thankfully the children were worn out from all the heat and excitement," she smiled up at him, as she pulled at her skirts, covering her knees. "But it was far too stuffy in my room," she added softly, with a shrug, "I just needed some air..."

"Mmmm..." he answered, struggling to think of anything sensible, his mind spinning wildly, but unable to land on even a handful of words he could string together in a sentence that might make sense. _Don't move. Stay this side of the gate._

"I went to the study, looking for you," she continued, turning away, she reached down to run her fingers across the top of the cool water.

"Was Max there?" Georg asked a little too quickly, his words still sounding abrupt. His head spun around, looking up towards the villa as if he expected his friend to appear from the shadows. _Still alone._ He turned back to her.

"Herr Detweiler…?" she thought for a moment, watching the ripples disturb the surface of the water. "No, I didn't see anyone," she turned back to look at him, "I guessed everyone was worn out from all this heat," she smiled. "Everyone must have retired early…"

"Everyone?" he whispered, the word almost catching in his throat. _God, it was dry._ The gate, damn it. _Stay this side of the gate._

"Oh, no! I did see Herr Detweiler," she answered vaguely. Honestly, this heat had affected her brain. She'd gone to the study more than once. "He came to the study while I was waiting. We chatted for a little while, then walked up the stairs together." Her eyes widened as she stared up at him.

"He's retired for the night…" it was a statement, not a question. Watching her, holding his breath, he studied her in the moonlight. Her lips parted, she paused, but didn't say anything. She just nodded her head slowly.

He turned his head, his eyes once again following the steps up to the back doors of the villa. One hand had left the gate, the fingers had started moving against his leg. _Don't open the gate._ Holding his breath, he narrowed his eyes. _Searching. Waiting. Nothing._ All alone...

Without a moment to waste, like a man possessed, he turned back swiftly and pushed at one of the gates impatiently. It made a creaking noise that sounded so much louder in the quiet of the night. Stepping onto the narrow landing, he creaked it closed behind him. Holding his breath, he turned, looking down to where Maria was sitting. His eyes instantly found hers. _Damn it, you're playing with fire, man._ But he didn't care. Let him get burned.

"What happened to you," she murmured, breaking the silence as she looked up at him, wide eyed.

"Me...?" How long had he been standing in the same spot staring at her?

"Did you, err..." her adorable little giggle matched the delightful way her head was leaning playfully to one side, "fall in the lake?"

"What? Don't be ridiculous! Of course, I didn't…" he answered gruffly, then followed her eyes down to his chest. "Oh..." _God, was he blushing?_ He'd forgotten all about his appearance. "Erhm..." he cleared his throat. "Like you said, it's hot," he gave her a shrug accompanied by a lopsided grin, "I went for a swim..."

"Oh..." her smile slowly faded, along with her amusement. She was too preoccupied, staring at his unbuttoned shirt clinging to his chest, too distracted she couldn't think of anything else to say. Even in the moonlight, there was no mistaking the outline of his muscles, and she was certain she could make out the dark shadow of hair across them. She tore her eyes away from his chest, back up to his eyes. But, instead of stopping, her eyes continued travelling up to his hair, drawn to the lock hanging over his forehead. She'd never seen him looking so wild, so untamed. She had to admit, she was finding it rather exciting.

"Erhm..." he cleared his throat. Why was he so damn nervous? _God, his mouth was dry_. "May I?" he motioned to the landing beside her with his hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Of course," she smiled at him and shuffled further along the landing, away from the gates, making some room.

He gave her an awkward smile and sat down beside her. _Damn, a little too close._ He stared out across the lake, now shimmering under the moon, its silvery light growing brighter as the night continued to darken. He looked down at her feet. He wanted to touch them. Wanted to massage the arches, use his strong hands and experienced fingers and thumbs to soothe away the aches of a long day. Instead, he tightened his grip on the edge of the landing between them, while the fingers on his other hand started drumming away.

"Please..."

"Do you..."

They turned, laughing at each other as they both went to speak at the same time.

"You first," Georg whispered, his eyes softening. She was so close, too close, only inches away.

"I was going to ask, do you mind if I put my feet back in the water," she asked, her defiant eyes finding their way back up to his untamed hair. She fought the urge to reach up and touch it.

"No, no. Please," his eyes moved to her bare feet. He watched, holding his breath, as she lowered her legs, dipping her pointed toes first, before her feet disappeared into the black water. Realising he was still staring at her legs, he looked up and gave her a half grin.

She was looking at him, smiling. "Go on," she encouraged.

"I shouldn't…"

"It's so much cooler," she nodded.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" he asked. The slow shake of her head was all the encouragement he needed. He reached down and pulled off his boots, throwing them on the landing beside him. Tugging off his thick woollen socks, he threw them in the same direction. Despite his trousers still being damp, he rolled up the hems. Lowering his feet into the water, he closed his eyes as the cool water lapped around his ankles.

"Better?" The word was soft, strangely breathless.

"Much," he whispered opening his eyes and turning to look at her again. She was still smiling at him. _God, she looked beautiful. _He wanted to touch her. Wanted to trace her jawline as it caught the moonlight. He looked away. He'd been wanting to touch her for hours, but it felt like days, weeks. His eyes glanced down at his hand, clinging onto the landing between them. Her hand was just beside his, barely an inch away. He shouldn't, but he needed to...

"You weren't waiting for me..." she said softly, breaking the silence again, breaking his thoughts.

"I'm sorry. It was too hot." _How could he tell her the real reason?_ That he couldn't trust himself to be alone with her. Not after the way she'd looked at him while he'd sung for the children. _Sung for her._ "Did you wait long?" he asked tentatively.

She shook her head slowly. "After Herr Detweiler and I went upstairs, I came back downstairs," she told him. "I waited for you again…" she whispered, her words drifting off. "After a while, I came out to get some air."

His mind began churning, slowly making sense of what she was saying, the enormity of her soft, seductive words starting to take hold. The children were in bed. Max had retired for the night, along with everyone else. They were alone. Finally. "Alone…" it was barely a whisper. _A relief._

Staring wide eyed at each other, the realisation settled over them. No one knew they were here. Together. He shouldn't. But he couldn't resist. It was impossible to know when he might get another opportunity. This may be his only chance. He could feel the hot, humid air around them growing thicker, heavier. He watched as her breathing came a little faster. Just like his own. His eyes dropped to her lips. They were parted again. He could tell she was trying, unsuccessfully, to settle her breathing. He looked up at her, she was staring wide-eyed back at him.

His eyes found her hand, resting on the landing between them. Slowly, he lifted his hand, the one beside hers. Hesitating a little, he brushed his fingertips down the length of her fingers. Above the blood pounding in his head, he heard her suck in a breath. But he forced himself to ignore it while he concentrated on her hand. Slowly he retraced the path of his fingertips along the length of her fingers. He gently took hold of her hand, turning it over in his, and traced the lines of her palm with his thumb. It was so soft, so incredibly soft.

His other hand, no longer drumming instinctively, had lifted from the landing. He flexed his fingers. Unable to stop himself, he reached up, the back of his fingers slowly, tenderly brushing her cheek. Her eyes fluttered at his touch. _Was that a sigh?_ He turned his hand, cupping her cheek gently. She closed her eyes, leaning into his hand. His eyes moved back down to her lips. She smiled. _God, she was gorgeous._

Still cupping her cheek, he couldn't think of anything except her soft, full lips. _Just a touch, just a taste._ He bent his head down, watching her lips part, her breathing coming a little faster. Just before his lips touched hers, he tilted his head to the side. He parted his lips, the thought of kissing her almost too much.

His lips brushed hers. _So soft, so incredibly soft._ He kissed her again, a gentle, tender kiss, her lips yielding under his, so delicate and sweet. He tilted his head a little more, and this time his kiss was a little firmer, lingered a little longer. _Just one more touch, just another taste._ This time, her lips moved against his, his mind spinning as she kissed him back. Slowly pulling away, her lips held onto his, clinging, then reluctantly letting go. His heart leapt. _She wanted more._ She didn't want this to stop any more than he did. His hand moved from her cheek to her hair, his lips quickly finding hers again. This time, his kiss was less restrained, a little rougher, deeper. He cursed himself. He should slow down. God knows, they had time.

His hand let go of hers and grabbed for her waist. "I saw you…" his sharp, accusing words had a dangerous edge as he pulled her roughly towards him. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?" She offered no resistance, her hands clutching at his shirt as he pulled her onto his lap. "The way you looked at me…" her arm went around his shoulders just as his lips found hers again. It was a desperate, forceful kiss. Quickly forgetting they had all night, his hungry mouth opened against hers, his tongue tasting, searching, finding hers. He was vaguely aware of a hand scraping the back of his neck. Fingers moving, tentatively exploring the edge of his damp hair, retreating for a moment, before continuing to tease. "I know that look…" he whispered hoarsely against her mouth, before she swallowed his words with another frantic kiss. _Oh God, did she realise how much he wanted her?_

Did she say something? He couldn't make sense of it. It can't have been important. It was lost, somewhere between the blood pounding in his ears and his mouth claiming hers again. Open, greedy kisses. He was sure he heard her sigh, such a sensual, erotic sound. _What he would give to spend tonight with this woman._ His mouth reluctantly left hers. He was sure she protested with a moan. But her disappointment was short lived as his mouth began nipping, teasing along her jawline. She murmured her approval, tilting her head, encouraging him to follow the pulse thundering down her neck, his mouth continuing to pull and tug, leaving a burning trail in its wake. He drew her earlobe into his mouth, smiling as she shuddered against him. Disappointment that his mouth had left hers long forgotten as fingers dug deeper into his shoulders.

"Do you know…" he whispered hoarsely against the shell of her ear, drawing another shudder.

"Know what?" she sighed into his hair, his mouth back teasing, tormenting the soft skin behind her ear, the scrape of his teeth, his tongue driving her wild.

"How much… how long…" he whispered breathlessly against her ear. "How badly I've wanted to kiss you? To touch you?"

His hand was slowly skating along her leg, his fingers kneading, exploring the bare skin at the top of her calf. He smiled against her open mouth, before she greedily claimed him again in a desperate kiss. Her tongue, her sighs, her sweet taste all driving him wild as she moved on his lap. Having tormented the sensitive spot behind her knee, his hand continued its slow, maddening journey. He groaned, deepening their kiss as he realised her skirts were once again revealing her knees.

He wasn't sure if he heard or felt her sigh against him. Both hands were in his hair now. _Raking, pulling, teasing._ Fists full of hair, holding him against her. Even if he wanted to stop their kisses, which he didn't, even if he tried, he couldn't. She tasted so sweet. His fingers were under her skirts. _Teasing, tormenting, maddening._ One moment bold, the next retreating. All the time, making their way along her leg.

Suddenly, she pulled her mouth away. _Had he done something wrong? Had he gone too far?_ His eyes flew open, searching hers. She was breathing hard, smiling at him, staring at him with that knowing look through heavy eyes, dark with desire. She looked up, giggling to herself as she smoothed his hair with the palms of her hands. His eyes dropped down, watching her chest moving as she tried to catch her breath. Her breasts were barely an inch away. Instinctively, he leaned forward, burying his head against her, his desperate breathing matching hers, rising and falling with her. As she hugged him to her, he closed his eyes, imagining nothing between them. Wishing he was resting his cheek against the soft skin in the valley of breasts. Wishing he could draw a hardened nipple into his mouth.

She left a slow, seductive kiss in his hair before resting her cheek against him. "You know…" she whispered breathlessly, "you're right…" Her words hot, seductive against the shell of his ear, sending a tremor down to the base of his spine. She moved her hands to his shoulders and held tight while she started moving on his lap. He opened his eyes, looking up at her and frowned. His own breathing coming hard and fast as he tried to fill his lungs, tried to control his heart as it pounded hard against his ribs.

She smiled down at him, a sweet, adorable smile, as she moved again. Realising she was swinging a leg over his lap, his mind started spinning. He held his breath. _Dear God!_ He arched his brow at her, trying to hide his shock. Trying to comprehend that this innocent young woman was now straddling him. Even in the moonlight, he could tell she was blushing at her sudden boldness. He answered her uncertainty with a smile and a nod of reassurance. As one hand held onto the collar of his damp shirt, pulling the starched material tight against the back of his neck, the other brushed along his jawline. He closed his eyes, savouring the feel of her fingers against the dark stubble. "What was I right about…" he whispered, struggling to think.

She leaned down, bringing her cheek to rest against his, revelling in the feel of his rough, masculine skin against hers. Taking in a deep breath, her head filled with the unmistakable musky scent that was him. All him. "The same as you…" her hot breathless words against his ear sent another tremor down his spine. "I wanted the same as you…"

Georg growled as his mouth turned towards her hot, dangerous words, tilting his head trying to find her lips again. But he shouldn't have worried, her mouth was on his first, her tongue finding his, her lips pressing, retreating, pulling, dragging on his. One of his hands had continued tracking an intoxicating path under her skirts. Searching, exploring, driving her mad. His other hand had moved from her waist and was now gently, tenderly kneading her breast. _These damn clothes! _He wanted to lose these damn clothes. At that moment, he'd give anything to feel her skin against his. He swallowed a moan, knowing she wanted the same. All the while, fingers moved dangerously higher, exploring soft, silken skin, a thumb teasing her inner leg.

"This feels like a dream…" she whispered breathlessly against his mouth, resting her forehead against his. "Tell me I'm not dreaming…" her words punctuated by heavy breaths. "Not again…"

His hands stopped, his head reeling. "Dreaming…?" he hissed between gulps of air and a pounding heart. His thumb was now moving slowly back and forth across her hardened nipple, now tender, now rough, all the time maddening. _Damn these layers of blue silk._ What he'd give to feel her in his hand, to drive her wild as he teased her with his tongue and skilful mouth, gently nipping, tugging, tasting. "Mmmm… tell me," he demanded, his words sounding rough through laboured breathing, "naughty dreams?"

She giggled, throwing her head back. One day, she might tell him. But not tonight. Before he could say another word, her lips were back on his, silencing his questions. Her hands had found their way under his shirt, spreading across his chest, feeling the heat of his skin under her palms as fingers scraped and tormented. The muscles were hard, his skin rough from dark, coarse hair under her soft hands.

Holding himself tight, he tried to withstand her delightful, inquisitive assault. Her fingers were relentless, driving him wild, his nipples hardening under her constant touch. He sucked in a breath, it sounded like a hiss, as bold fingers traced a line down the valley of his chest, before their path was pulled up by the buttons of his shirt. It seemed there were a few still buttoned up. He couldn't think. Wasn't sure if he should be thankful or disappointed. Undeterred, her fingers moved back up his chest, leaving a new trail of burning skin in their wake.

He held himself tighter. _Dear God, did she realise what she was doing?_ His hand released her breast, and grabbed at both of her hands, holding them still. He growled, before his lips found hers, this time their kisses even more frantic and wild. He couldn't get enough of her, had to have her. All of her. _God, he'd been afraid of this._ But he couldn't stop now.

His hand had started moving again on her thigh, her skirt bunched around his lap. He wanted her, needed her. Demanding fingers pulled and tugged at sensible cotton. He should slow down, he should stop. He didn't want to do either. There was only one thing he wanted. He knew she wanted it too. He couldn't think. His head was filled with her sighs, a hand had broken free, was on his stomach. _Fingers on skin._ Touching, probing, driving him mad. He couldn't think, he tried to think, he had to think, he couldn't…

"Georg…"

_Was that his name? Ignore it, have to keep going…_

"Georg!"

Louder. _Who was it?_ Her mouth had stopped moving. They'd stopped kissing. He heard a gasp. His eyes shot open…

"Georg, for God's sake!"

His head spun around, he was dizzy, couldn't see. _Who was daring to interrupt?_

"Max...?"

"What on Earth are you doing?"

"What?! What am _I_ doing?" Georg growled between mouthfuls of air. "What the Hell are _you_ doing? How dare you sneak around…"

"I'm sneaking around because you're hiding out here in the dark?" Max shot back.

He was dizzy, he could barely think. He looked away from Max's dark outline. Maria had moved off his lap. He somehow had the good sense to move his body between her and the shadow at the gate.

"For God's sake, Max!" Georg growled towards the gate. "Give us a minute, will you...?"

"You have thirty seconds, starting now..." Max cleared his throat, "I'll wait for you on the terrace."

As footsteps drifted into the distance, Georg turned to apologise. "I, err... I seem to have gotten a little, well... a little carried away," he gave her an awkward grin as he stumbled to his feet and held out a hand. He didn't want to apologise. Truth was, he wouldn't take back a single moment, a single kiss, or one stolen touch. But he probably should offer some explanation. "I'm sorry..."

"Please don't be..." she whispered, "I'm not..." Taking his hand, she gave him a smile as he helped her up, then let go of her hand.

Busy straightening her skirts, she searched around for her shoes. Finding them, she slipped them on. As she went to move past him, Georg reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. He pulled her towards him, making her gasp in surprise. "Good night, Fraulein," he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. "I love you," he whispered against her mouth. He stood back and smiled at her. "Sweet dreams…" he whispered, his words low and calculating. _Oh-ho, he knew what she'd be dreaming about tonight!_

"Good night," she whispered. "I'd better go..." Slipping from his grip, his eyes followed her as she stepped past him and passed through the gate. He stared after her as she reached the steps of the terrace. His heart skipped a beat as she turned back to look at him, giving him one last adorable smile for the night before she turned her back on him. "Good night, Herr Detweiler," he heard her say sweetly as she reached the top of the steps.

"For the hundredth time, young lady, please call me Max," his words were answered with a giggle that drifted down from the terrace and into the night. Smiling to himself, Georg could tell from her giggle she was blushing.

Max made his way down the steps to the landing, meeting Georg at the open gates.

"Honestly, Georg," Max snapped, "I'm shocked. What do you think you're doing? Do you have no sense of propriety?" He paused to cast an eye over his friend. "Good God, man, you're barely dressed," his eyes took in the wild hair, unbuttoned shirt, rolled up sleeves and bare feet sticking out from rolled up trousers.

"Max, save me the lecture…" Georg began.

"No, Georg, you seem to forget there are reputations to maintain, even though it's obvious you don't care," Max continued, holding up his hand against Georg's protests. "You don't seem to appreciate how important it is to protect a young lady's virtue. You seem hell bent on bringing all my hard work undone. It's little wonder I had to make telephone calls last week. You really don't…"

Having heard it all before, Georg let Max's lecture drift into the night, while he tried to locate his boots and socks. Eventually finding the last sock, he let himself through the landing gate and closed it behind him. Frustrated, he snatched up his jacket and tie off the gate. He was vaguely aware of Max walking beside him, still reprimanding him. Not that he was listening.

His eyes were following blue silk swaying at the doorway at the top of the terrace. Just before she disappeared, Maria turned around again. This time, she didn't smile. She didn't say a word. But her eyes told him everything. He swallowed hard, the air sucked from his lungs.

Four more weeks, damn it. And now, thanks to Max, his sister was arriving tomorrow. At least the children had been excited by the news when he told them tonight. Just four more weeks of this damn torture.

Then, finally, Maria would be all his...

**A little while ago, I was set the challenge to write a one-shot. So, this was the result, a silly little piece of fluff with little (if any) plot!**

**My initial inspiration for this piece of silliness was Radiohead's "Codex" from "The King of Limbs" album released in 2011. This song is one of my favourites - it's beautiful, evocative and never fails to calm the soul. For almost five magical minutes, it takes me back to a cool river at the dusky end of a long, hot summer's day, surrounded by the sounds and smells of the Australian bush. Apologies, if there aren't cicadas in Austria, they're unmistakable song is synonymous with summer evenings here, so it's my little shout out to our beautiful and unique home.**

**Sadly though, much of our Australian bush has been on fire this summer, including where I spent my childhood. Prayers to everyone - stay safe, stay strong.**

**I still don't own TSOM, just had another little lend!**

**"Immerse your soul in love"**

_**Sleight of hand**_  
_**Jump off the end**_  
_**Into a clear lake**_  
_**No one around**_  
_**Just dragonflies**_  
_**Fantasise**_  
_**No one gets hurt**_  
_**You've done nothing wrong**_  
_**Slide your hand**_  
_**Jump off the end**_  
_**The water's clear and innocent**_  
_**The water's clear and innocent**_


End file.
